


Temporary

by NeonFinch



Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adoption, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Post-Undertale, Slice of Life, post-underground, real jobs, surface - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22454899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonFinch/pseuds/NeonFinch
Summary: "And so... We're going to be... er, fosters, of a sort." I fumble, smirking to him as he stares at me, wide-eyed.Sans's jaw drops. "No." Complete and utter disbelief.And I couldn't be happier. Kris would finally be safe...
Relationships: Frisk/Papyrus (Undertale), Sans/Toriel (Undertale)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Short project, taking place after the monsters escaped the Underground in the normal Undertale timeline.

Sans-  
Music played in my earbuds, and I watched the pile of random debris grow taller as I swept it. Sweep. Pause. Sweep. Pause. There was a lot on my mind, but that didn’t really matter right now. Music was playing, and the room was slowly getting cleaner. I try to imagine what these rooms were like during the day. Did students line the seats of this lecture hall and attempt to learn? Or were they spaced few and far in between, like a random bits of dust throughout the space.   
Frisk seemed to like it here. Asriel liked the atmosphere, but he didn’t love coming to class as much as she did. She appreciated school, and ate it up. College worked so much smoother for her—making friends was optional. Asriel stayed a part of the music scene more than anything else. Heh, goofy kids. Thinking about the two of them helped my mind a little. I felt like they were safe here. Much safer than the Underground. 

Sweep. Pause. Sweep. Pause. 

And what about the others? Heh. Papyrus was faring well at his new job, too. After two years on his own, he got a degree in nursing, and swore to only work in the nursery with the newborns. It was really hard getting him into that position—there were still a lot of people who feared the monsters, and getting him the opportunity to work with newborns was… difficult to say the least. But, he loves his job, and always comes home with a look of wonder on his face. Something about caring for those tiny creatures… he couldn’t get enough, and of course he had more than enough love to give. Besides, infants wouldn’t know to point and scream at just him—they do that to everyone. 

Everyone else followed suit similarly. Undyne worked as a personal trainer in the gym down town, Alphys became a thermodynamics professor, and Mettaton, well, was off doing whatever. He was spirited like that. Asgore ran a florist’s shop inside the coffeeshop on Third Street, and Toriel was content teaching at the elementary school. 

God, Toriel… I’d offered her the chance for us to live together, maybe get something simple for her and I to stay in… but she smiled and, like always, cheerfully declined. “Old ladies like me are simply better off on our own, Sans. You are more than welcome to come visit, though,” she would say, “there’s always a spare bedroom.” I shrug the thought off, being happy with staying close as friends. I loved her, but the relationship was complicated, but I liked it here, where it was, sitting in armchairs across the room from another, drinking coffee and reading books, casting an occasional glace her way to admire her softness. She had this glow to her that never got old to me. She’s so kind and good, and intelligent, too--

My wristband buzzes, and I notice the time. 3 am. (Oh boy, 3 am!) Papyrus would be getting off of work in about thirty minutes. “Finally,” I mutter into the corridor. Stretching down to sweep the remaining debris into the dustpan, I then lean up and deposit it all in the garbage on the cart. Trying not to sneeze from the dust, I clip my broom on the cart as well, and push it out of the old lecture hall. 

“I don’t know what to do, Sans,” he whispers, taking off his shoe covers. “I just… this one is different, I know it. It’s… he’s like Frisk. I just…” he trails, looking back into the room. He looms over me, looking very tired. Normally, he’d be full of energy. 

“You say that about every child that is slated for adoption, Paps. You know that we can’t even begin to take care of one. And even if we did, there’s no chance in angel’s heaven that we’d get approved for it, you know that.” I adjust my coat, going to grab his for him. “You have a huge heart, Papyrus, no doubt, but… you just can’t take home every baby you see.” 

He shrugs, taking the coat and slipping it on over his scrubs. “I mean, you’ve got to see him though. His story is… particularly, erm, sad.” He whispers, zipping up the bottom of the coat. “The mother is still deciding what to do with him, and he’s staying here until she does. She’s in pretty rough shape, actually.” Slowly, he walks from the corridor and takes me to the open window, in which all the babies were situated, wrapped up in blankets, and most of them sleeping. 

Except for one. 

He stayed in a chamber with a light, helping to aid his jaundice, and he was wrapped tightly in a blue blanket. He wasn’t crying or struggling, like the others, he only laid there, on his back, eyes looking around. Everything about him seemed… soft. Like Toriel. He was right—like Frisk. His eyes met Papyrus and I standing in the window, and he just watched. Papyrus gives a gentle wave, smiling. “Hey there, Kris.”

“Kris, huh?” I can’t help but smile back. “Seems like a pretty grown-up name for a smudge of pink, huh?" I notice how dark his hair is—jet black, like Frisk’s was when she was younger. “He kinda looks like her… do you think they're…?” 

“Related?” He assumes. “Nah. Unless Frisk had siblings who moved here… then there’s no way.” Frisk’s parents had died long before she fell into the Underground. She was living on her own before her fall. “He’s cute though, huh?” Papyrus smiles down at me, short of begging. 

“We’ll just have to see what the mother decides, huh?” I shrug. “Moms sometimes change their minds when they get to hold their creation. You remember the last one, right?” At one point Papyrus got tied up in having to deal with an adoption process. It was a frail, pale little girl, who wasn’t wanted the entire pregnancy… but when he brought her to the mother, she wept and hugged Papyrus tightly, begging to keep her. He was sad at first, but got better after that. 

“Yeah, we’ll just see. Let’s get some sleep, okay? I’m just really tired—there were a lot of sickly babies today. My heart is rather heavy,” he exhales. I look up at him, palm still pressed to the glass, eyes trained on Kris. His shoulders caved inward, and he seemed exhausted. I only nod and head out of the hallway, putting my hood up as I go. 

Something about this child… it made my stomach turn.


	2. Instincts

Papyrus-

Morning rolled in much sooner than I thought it might. I stare up at the ceiling of my small bedroom, and rub my face with my palms. Mornings brought calmness and clarity of thought. A chance to be slow in my mind before things could get in the way of interrupting it.

My mind flicks to last night, and I exhale. So many losses... I don't remember having a night like that since I started there. Three babies didn't make it, and one of the mothers died in childbirth. I rub my face again. Was it all worth it, in the grander scheme of things? Thinking of Kris, I nod. Of course. Even though we couldn't save all of them, we did save some. And it did make a difference. Somehow, in his deep grey eyes, something told me there was a purpose to it all. 

"You awake yet, Russ?" Sans whispers from the doorframe, lazily drinking a cup of coffee and standing, yawning, in a pink oversized housecoat. He seemed well rested--he was almost never awake before me. So what had him up?

"Yeah?" I groan, sitting up slowly. "What is it?" I stretch my arms up over my head, grunting as my shoulders pop, almost comically. "Also, what time is it?" The sun seemed to be higher than normal. How long had I slept?

"Er, almost 1 in the afternoon. You must've needed the sleep, huh?" He adds, palm wrapped around the bottom of the cordless house phone. I raise an eyebrow. Who was it?

"For you," he smirks, handing me both the piping coffee and the phone. He seems laid back about it, as if it wasn't anything too strenuous. The look on his face was relaxed, and the slightest hint of a grin crossed his face. I put the phone up to my ear, leaning into the coffee, taking a sip. "It's Papyrus,"

And before I can breathe in, the line is saturated with excitement. "Russ! I, uh... I passed my last exam! I'm going to graduate! I don't know how it happened, but its done!" I perk up, nearly spitting out my coffee. She did it! And a semester early too! "Wowie, I uh, Frisk, that's amazing!" 

Sans holds in a chuckle. "'Wowie,' huh?" I wave him off frustratedly. 'Shh!' I motion with my finger over my teeth. Annoying. 

"Yeah! Thanks, Russ! I just... heh. I don't know what to think! Asriel is actually pretty upset, so that does rattle me a bit. He has three more semesters at least..." her excitement falls. "I wonder if he'll be okay..."

I smirked. She was always worried about everyone else... She couldn't see how much of an accomplishment this was. "Aaa! Frisk! I'm so proud of you! Don't worry about him, he'll be okay. He's got people behind him, he'll be alright..." 

Sans smirks, rolling his eyes. I knew what that meant. Sans took every thing I said to her as some sort of flirting, as he was convinced that we were supposed to be together. 

And, the thought has crossed my mind... we were close, but I wasn't sure if we were that close... I mean, she was definitely intelligent and kind, but I just... it wasn't my place. She was meant to have a human partner, not a monster one. It was time for her to be a part of her people, and to not have me holding her back. She's safest with them...  
"...and then I'll be home for a couple of weeks! Is it okay if I stay with you and Sans? I'd really like to stay out of Toriel's, if I can." She finishes. 

I wasn't listening to a word. "Mm? Yeah, that sounds cool! We haven't got anything going on here, so." I was too busy thinking about her. She kept talking, but it was as if the words were just sound, they weren't processing in my mind. Maybe now would be the best time to ask her? 

My heart pounded in my ribcage. Well, metaphorically. 

"Hey, um, heh." I trail into the phone, feeling the sweat above my brow. Why was I hesitating so much over this? 

"Yeah? What is it, Russ?" She asks, a crackle of static over the line in anticipation. Could she feel my nervousness over the phone? 

"I, er... I just wanted to know if when you got back, um. If you'd like to... maybe go out and do something in town?" There. At least it was out. 

Her voice cracks a little, and I couldn't tell if it was the phone or her. "Oh, that sounds fine. Who else is coming? So we can make plans to--"

She wasn't understanding. I break into light laughter, a palm over my forehead. "Frisk, I mean... just you and me! There's this new place downtown and the hospital just remodeled and it's actually really pretty..." Oh, goodness. Was I doing this?

"Ah! Oh! Yeah, er, that sounds like fun!" She chimes over the line. "Kind of like old times, huh?"

I deflate, the nervousness leaving nearly immediately. Yeah. Like old times, where we would spend hours just me and her, doing whatever. "Mhm. Yeah." 

My hands shook subtly, and I remembered Sans standing at the door. To my dismay, his brow was raised comically, and a smirk crossed his face. "Wow, nice," he mouthed, tapping his cheek. And then I felt the heat of the blush on mine. Dammit.

"That sounds great, Russ," she finishes. "But, hey, I've got to go, okay? Gotta, uh, study, you know. So, heh."

"Oh! Yeah, go get those exams! You can do it!" I huff, trying to force the blush down. The phone clicks off, and Sans just chuckles. 

"Still into her, huh? What happened to letting her 'be with her kind'? You were so adamant about it when she first left for school..." he snickers, sitting at the foot of my bed, leaning on the footboard. "Obviously something changed..."

I shrug, trying to come up with a logical reason. None of them made sense in my head though, so what could I say to make it sound good out here? What had actually changed? Was it seeing all of the happy couples become parents, both monster and human? Was it thinking about her constantly after she had left?

"Could it maybe be that you're just having dad-instincts again and now you're looking for a mate?" He teases, nudging the bottom of my foot with his bony finger.   
My cheeks flash even more orange and I cover my face with a pillow, laying back on the bed. I let out an annoyed groan. "Oh, c'mon, Sans. Not all monsters get instincts like that. Just because I work with newborns... doesn't mean I have weird paternal instincts. You're crazy."

He shifts, now shaking the bed with quiet laughter. "I dunno, bro. The way you were lookin' at that kid last night, I thought you were just trying to build an overnight family, baby, Frisk, and all!" He's rolling with it now.

"Very funny," I mutter, now staring at the ceiling. "Frisk is just... she's so soft and warm and nice... and I just want to hold her and..." My mind trails to her long brown waves, and how much they'd grown in just a few years of being out of the Underground. It was always so cool to the touch just before the base of her neck and it smelled so strongly of cinnamon and just... warmth. I couldn't get it out of my head.

I suppose it wouldn't be a stretch to say that I'd only felt that way for her. No other monster or human conjured up that same... gut feeling I had for her. Many monsters had tried to find a place with me after we broke the barrier because of the connection to Frisk, but I just... I couldn't imagine it with anyone but her.

"And...?" He goes silent a moment, and I feel his gaze on my fingers covering my eyes. What was it he wanted to know? Did he just expect me to tell him all my private thoughts I'd had in the past four years about her?

"And... I don't know, Sans. I really just want to see her again. My heart hurts."

"What's your favorite thing about her, then? Spare me the awkward fantasies if you got em."

I scoff. "Please. She's been a friend for forever. I don't really think of her like that." And it was true. Beyond wanting to hold her and feel her warmth next to me, there was nothing. I just didn't process those things. I knew what sex was, of course--the human world was riddled with it. In ads, in media, in music... it was everywhere... I just never processed actually doing that. It seemed uncomfortable, for starters. Really, I never understood what the purpose was, obviously other than to reproduce. All those intimate moments could be had long before copulation. 

"I just want to hold her hands in mine again. The way they're shaped, they're so dainty and fragile, but I know they're capable of so much. I guess that's probably my favorite thing about her." I finish, sitting up, picking at my own hands, imagining hers there, with her shortly clipped nails painted that nearly signature shade of green. 

And then, it clicked. Something in my head clicked. The intimacy was a by-product of sex—but the child was the goal. The child was the thing that brought the couple together. Why hadn’t I thought of that sooner? It wasn’t what I would have done, as children deserve more than to just be ribbons that tie couples together, but at least that finally made sense. Huh. I’m learning human things all the time. 

Eventually, Sans pulls me from my thoughts, as if he saw the wheels in my head turning. "Huh. You've got it bad, bro." His voice is soft, softer than normal. His gaze drifts a bit, as if he's imagining something of his own. Maybe he was having an epiphany as well. About Toriel, maybe. I knew there was some sort of chemistry there. 

"Not as bad as you've got it for Mrs. Dreemur." I state, leaning in almost obnoxiously. “Tell me more about your fantasies with her, hm?” I tease him, the blush beginning to grow on his cheeks—just that lightest shade of blue.

“Mh? Me? Ah, em, no, Papy, you really don’t wanna know. Eheh,” he grunts, scratching the back of his skull a little nervously. “She’s great and all, don’t get me wrong, but… your thoughts on Frisk seem harmless compared to, er… how I feel about her. It’s different, I guess.” He stands up slowly, leaning on the footboard bed post, obviously trying to dodge the subject. “…I’ve thought about sharing magick with her, but I just don’t want her to get offended by it—”

My eyes widen incredulously. “Magick? Oh, goodness, Sans. Are you sure?” Sharing magick was a monster to monster thing. When two monsters really, truly, loved each other, they agreed to an encounter to which they bared their souls, and took turns learning about one another through different spells, checking the other’s aura, and ultimately, becoming one. Sometimes, if the love between the pair was high enough, there was a chance that they could create another soul, with the residuals of both parents in it. It took a lot of time and a lot of energy, but was a rewarding and intimate experience otherwise. 

“That’s… erm. Pretty crazy, don’t you think? Does Asriel know you two…?” I ask, still a little bewildered. 

He looks down at his fingers, stretching and unstretching them in front of him, as if trying to release all of the tension. “Ah, yeah. It is kind of crazy, huh? I mean, she’s an old monster, and she’s already got Asriel and Frisk… and heh, no. I think he knows we’re sort of in an out as far as talking goes, but I don’t think I’ve ever really showed any intention of wanting it to go further. I’m really just scared of what she’ll say…” 

He was always like this. Too emotionally-constipated to let anyone in. To scared to show his true colors in fear he might get rejected. When was he going to see that he was always loved, regardless of others?

“You’ve gotta tell her, Sans. That’s a pretty big deal to feel drawn to sharing magick with her, regardless of how old she might be. She’s not even really that much older than you.” Maybe by like ten years or so, but regardless. 

Walking from the room, cheeks still flushed, he chuckles a bit. “Oh, I know. I just gotta figure out a way how.”


	3. Kris

Papyrus--

The baby is doing better. He's nearly smiling as he stares out the front of the cabin he was trapped in, still seemingly content with it. The lamp wasn't turned on anymore, but the extra warmth was helpful to him, as he was a bit scrawny still.

I wave at him through the glass and smile. "Morning, Kris," I whisper. His grey eyes, wide with wonder stared at me, and he wiggled, corners of his eyes beginning to crinkle, the start of a wail. Before he can inhale enough air to scream, I scoop him out of the incubator and hold him in my arms, bouncing him lovingly. The scream soon comes at full force, and I can't help but smirk.

Healthy lungs for a little bugger. I continue to jostle him, patting his back. "There, there, little one," I repeat soothingly, going to pull his charts. I wonder if he's eaten today yet, and about the last time he was changed... I flick through the pages with one hand, and hold him steadily with the other. His crying had quieted, but he was still shaking with sobs.

I follow my finger through the columns and notice the familiar red text, the mother's statement. My breath hitches.

"ADOPTION, IMMEDIATE TRANSFER"

Adoption? So the mom really did it... I exhale a little, heart both heavy and joyous. Heavy because this poor child will probably never know his mother's voice, touch, or smell... but joyous knowing that he had the potential to find a home where he was always going to be safe. His birth mother, I was almost positive, was not going to be able to give him that. Her life seemed particularly bad, and I think she knew it. 

Slowly, I set the chart down and hold him up, thumbing his dark hair. "Let's get you some food, huh?"

And maybe I'll start signing papers.


	4. Deal.

Papyrus--

"And so... We're going to be... er, fosters, of a sort." I fumble, smirking to him.

His jaw drops. "No." Complete and utter disbelief.

I grin even wider. "Yeah. They approved it. Mostly because his condition requires pretty constant attention, and I have a license, so. Oh, and I get the next month off to take care of him." I sit on the couch beside him, nearly unable to contain my joy.

"Hmm." He grunts, rubbing his face. "You said foster, right? So that means if he gets adopted by a family permanently--"

"Then he will be adopted, and that will be that." I reply, elbowing him gently. "So... what do you think, eh? Ready to be an uncle of sorts?"

He doesn't reply, and I grow tense. "Oh, c'mon, Sans, it's just a baby baby, he won't be any trouble... all they do is sleep and need to be fed, really."

"Just... keep it safe." He breathes out, a small smirk. He was trying to contain himself too. "And let me make bad uncle jokes from time to time," he leans back into the couch.

"Deal."

This was it. This was how it would be. And I couldn't be happier.


	5. Frisk

Days passed by seamlessly, as much as they could. I slowly retrained myself to wake up in the morning, and go to bed earlier, to make a better habit for Kris. Sans didn't mind it too much, myself and Kris being up while he was sleeping, we just spent most of the time downstairs.

The kid was a healthy sleeper, after all. He just hated being alone. Even now, wrapped up in my arms by the fireplace seemed the only way he could get peace. The living room itself had become his room of a sorts--miscellaneous supplies could be found on the coffee table, and as well as the mantle, the window ledges, bookshelves... it was all here. Lovingly, I thumb his pitch black waves, and huff. This tiny creature... this child, in just a couple of weeks time, had stolen my heart entirely. It almost seemed unfair to know that he could be taken from me almost any day now, and he will have never been the wiser to my existence. What if he grew up in a home that didn't approve of monsterkind? What if he became one of those people whose life work was to kill us all? I couldn't imagine being parted with him, but with a pit of dread inside my stomach, I knew he could.

"Oh, Kris," I whisper, glancing into the flames. "I wish you could stay forever." He yawns, and snuggles farther into me, face buried into the pillow nearly stuffed in my ribcage. I exhale, melting. I let the warmth of his tiny body and the flames consume me and close my eyes, drifting off...

Then I feel the vibrating of my cellphone in my pocket. Only a few minutes had passed since I fell asleep, and I scream inside my head of frustration. Who would be calling me? Grudgingly, I pick it up and put it to my ear, whispering harshly.

"Papyrus. I'm not on call today."

The line exhales gently. "Oh. Papyrus... it's not the hospital. It's me."

I sharply inhale. Fuck. "Aw, heh. Sorry, Frisk... with the unlisted number..." Then it registers.   
"Um, Frisk?"

"Yeah?"

My heartbeat quickens. "Wh...where are you? What are you calling from? Where's your phone? Are you okay?"

She laughs gently. "I'm... I'm fine, Papyrus. My phone... uh. Got stolen. I accidentally left it in the terminal when I was trying to get some food before the flight, and when I came back it was gone. I'm calling from a payphone in town."

"Well that sucks. Where are you now?" At least she knew my number.

"Uh, I think I'm about 3 hours from you. I'm going to rent a car and driv--"

"Rent a car?! Frisk, are you kidding? I'll be there in just a moment! Let me grab some things for Kris and I'll be out that way." What was she thinking? Like I wouldn't come get her. "This is rediculous."

"Rediculous? Who is Kris? Did you finally get a dog?" She laughs.

I realize I hadn't told her. She had no clue. "Um. Not a dog. A, er... a human--I mean, a baby." What is she going to say? There's no way she's even going to have anything to say.

The line goes silent. "...did you say... a bab--now, wait a minute! Did you bring home a newborn from work?! Papyrus! What the..." she trails, almost incredulous. "Papyrus! Oh my god! Did you adopt a human child?!"

I smirk. "Yeah. His name is Kris. And Sans and I are just fostering. He doesn't belong to us--he was just in some sticky situations with his birth and his mother, so the hospital and the adoption agency gave him to me, just until someone adopts him fully. He's extremely sweet and..."

A faint wail comes from my lap.

"...aaand he's awake."

"Ohhhh... oh my god. Russ... are you bringing him up with you...?" Her voice shifts from bewildered to something much softer, like she was cooing over him in her mind. The sound makes my heart flutter in my chest, and I try to swallow my butterflies.

I exhale, cradling the tiny child. "Yeah, cause Sans is sleeping for his night shift." I gently hush Kris as he's lulled back into a sense of security. "We'll be there in a couple of hours."


	6. This isn't real.

Papyrus--

Words couldn't describe the feelings stuck in my chest, staring at the two of them on my couch.

Her arm laid over his back, protectively securing him to her belly. She snored with soft, gravelly breaths, each one short.

His tiny skull rested on her breast, rising and falling with her breaths. Little fingers clung to her worn out t-shirt, and he slept soundly. Perhaps her snoring lulled him deeper.

My soul overflows with this sense I've never felt before. I never want this moment to end, I want it to be like this, just me, him, and her, for all the rest of time that exists.

Her snoring stops, and her eyelids gently flutter open. They first land on the tiny child, wrapped snugly in the curve between her breasts, and then to me, watching intently from the other side of the room.

I had pen and paper on my thighs, my body curled up, chin on my knees, smirking.

She smiles back and looks again to Kris, petting his black curls lovingly. "Precious little boy," she murmurs. Her voice has a sense of longing in it, and it made my insides warm. Like I wanted Kris to really be hers. To be ours.

"He's... er. He's a good sleeper."  
Is all I can manage. Watching her for so long... all I wanted was to join the two of them, wrap them both up in my embrace. I wanted something more... I wanted her to be mine.

I choke it down, reminding myself this wasn't meant to be. It was a moment, and that's all it was. But my mind still wanders...

"If I lie him down, will he still sleep?" She whispers. Her fingers still stroke his head, patting the curls back.

I nod. "He will at least for a little bit. He hates being alone for too long." My heart began to ache, with this squeezing feeling. I wanted so desperately to wrap her up and just hold her as close to me as I could. Just to have her... but I stayed put where I was. If I moved, I was going to do something I regret.

She slowly stands, making sure that Kris slept soundly. "Ah, much better," she murmurs. Turning towards me she starts, "Would you like tea or someth--?"

Her eyes lock on me, frozen in this small space, trying desperately to push away my feelings. "Russ...?" Her expression quickly changes to concern. "Are... you okay?"

I rip my gaze from hers and pick at the notepad in my lap instead. The page was blank except for a list of words.

Warm. Forever. Impossible. Is this really happening?

I scribble them out hastily, trying to seem busy. "Um."

She takes a step closer, and my heart pounds. "...'um' what? Papyrus, you're acting funny... what-"

"Wait!" I splutter, sticking a hand out to stop her approach. "I'm... uh. I'm fine! I just. I was in the middle of some thoughts when you woke up, and I was just...um. Trying to get them on paper. Sorry." I finish hastily, flipping the page. I stand up, trying to brush off my nervousness. "Tea, right? That sounds great right about now... wanna help?"

She recoils, not fooled by my half-lie. "...sure...! But uh... what were you thinking about...?" Her footsteps follow me into the kitchen, and she pulls up a seat to the bar.

"Mm?" I hum, pulling the small tea set from the cabinet. "Oh, I dunno. Just random stuff, you know...?" Random things about how I want to hold her warm hands in mine, and press my forehead to hers... maybe even melt into her hazel green eyes...

"Uh-huh. Random, huh? You know..." she pauses. "You've never been one to be so cryptic..." Her voice falls silent, and I hear her breathing still. "...do you wanna hear about the dream I had while napping with Kris just now?"

A dream? Probably something about college. "Of course," I say, adjusting the burner and placing the teapot on it. I turn and lean on the countertop, waiting on the water to boil. My arms fold across my chest, and I nod. "What is it?"

She picks at her fingernails, biting her lip. "It's kinda weird, but I liked it a lot, um..." she trails, as if trying to find the right word.

And then I notice it. The smallest hint of a pink blush on her cheeks. I might actually die. My heart picks up speed again.

"Well, it kinda started where I had woken up from my nap, and then... well wait that's not important... uh... and then I saw you! And we put Kris to bed upstairs... You know those creepy documentaries about medieval medical history we watch?"

I know exactly the ones. And I know how often I had to rewatch them when she was gone because I had missed the entire thing, staring at her as she nodded off.

"Okay, so we're watching one, and there was a jump scare! And so I grabbed onto you and you just looked at me and--" she stops, the blush becoming more vibrant. Her picking at her fingers stops, too.

"Frisk?" I urge her.

"....and we kinda sorta made out." She says in a whisper, as if ashamed. "And... honestly? I wish it... um...would actually happen?" Her body is still, but her eyes raise up to meet me, staring, mouth agape. "B-but! I! Um! Really really understandifyoudontwant that to happen, uh..."

I snap my jaw shut and smirk. I feel the heat on my cheeks grow too... "I want it too."

"Really? Like, actually, really?"

I nod. "For a while. Really, since we came to the surface and you stayed with us for the summer before you went to college."

"...should we do it?" She asks. "Like...how do we..."

I lean over the bar, taking her hands in mine. "Dunno. Maybe something like this," I shudder, bringing my face closer to hers. At this distance, I swear I could feel the heat from her cheeks.

"Ah, hell," she murmurs, eyes meeting mine before I watched them close...

It's... not what I expected.

It's much better.

Her lips press against my teeth, and I can't help but to let out a small sound. I want to press into her more but...

She pulls away ever so slightly, eyes fluttering open. "Oh...oh no."

No? "Uh, heh. What?"

"That's way better than in my dream," she smirks. "That's a problem."

My heart pounds so hard in my ears, I barely hear myself say, "A problem? Why?"

She stands up on the front leg post of the chair, now meeting me halfway across the bar. "Because I want another."

And before I can process, her lips are against me again, even softer and more inviting than before. I melt a little further into the kiss, a shiver running down my spine.

Her breath is sweet against mine, and her lips part just slightly... and then I freeze.

Was that her tongue?

Just the very tip flicks against the inside of my teeth, begging me to open up as well.

More than happy to oblige, I part my teeth, and she's there in an instant. "Mnnngh," I groan, hands shakingly going to her face. The tips of my thumbs find purchase on her jawbone, and pull her closer.

She makes the noise this time, and I have to pull away, for the sake of air. "Holyyy..." I shiver. "This isn't real."

"I think it is..." she shudders back, breath labored. Her fingers fall slowly from my face, and she leans back from the bar, as if finally realizing what had just happened. Her eyes widen when it hits her. "I mean, ahem," she mumbles, "it was great... er, you did great! It was uhm, better than I could've come up with, heheh." She offers awkwardly, blush thick on her cheeks. I still felt frozen, like the breath was sucked out of me. "Uhm...? Y..you too," I chuckle. I had no words, and my heart still thudded in my chest. Was that it? Did she stop because I messed up? 'It must've been pretty bad,' I think to myself, watching her walk around to my side of the bar. "Hey, uh. I'm...sorry? I know you said it was great, but why did we stop, I--" Her finger covers my teeth, and she does the same against her lips. "Shhh," she winks, smirking. "It was really great. I just... need a moment to process, and so do you, deal?" I nod. "Okay then." She huffs playfully, smirk spreading wide into a grin--it was if she couldn't contain her happiness. What have we done? Then the thought hits me... maybe she really does like me, at least, the way I like her. I found myself hopelessly smiling right back. I open my arms for a hug, and she obliges, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. She relaxes into my chest, and I can just barely sense her heart thudding against me. "Want to watch more medical dramas?" She asks. "Mhm." "Okay then." 


	7. Creativity

I bounce Kris happily in my arms, trying not to chuckle at his bewildered looks. In the past few days, it seemed as if he was starting to gain a personality. Some things about him were just... different than other newborns. Most cry whenever hungry or tired or otherwise, but he only cried when he was alone. He craved an exorbitant amount of attention, and everyone was more than happy to give it to him. 

He's just, more observant, it seemed. He looks around at almost everything, but isn't easily frightened by anything either. Sudden movements, loud noises... neither of these things bothered him unless he was alone. 

I stop bouncing him, only to lay him gently on his blanket in the floor. "Alright, buddy. You've got to lay here for a moment, because I have to go make your supper, huh? Wouldn't that be nice--" Before I even set him down, the sense of moving away from me triggers him into a wail. Still two inches from the ground, I hold him there, looming over him. I huff. 

"Now, now," I begin, rocking him slightly. "It's just for a couple of minutes. It won't be too bad, I promise!" He wails just as loud. Hm. I'd have to get more creative. 

Slowly, I pull him back up to my chest. "Okay, fine," I smirk, "let's try this."

With him cradled in one arm, I grab his blanket and pull it over to the part of the livingroom just before the kitchen, so he might be able to look over and still see me. Then, with a grunt, I lay on my back beside the blanket, laying him down beside me, his little hands brushing and eventually gripping my ribcage. He clutched me tightly, but his cries slowly faded. 

I exhale, staring at the ceiling. "Just the two of us, huh? Do you like it this way?" I ask, as if he might actually answer. To be completely honest, having him here was a dream come true. It was a difficult dream with a huge learning curve, but I don't mind. I can't imagine a morning where I don't wake up to his cries. The lack of sleep was worth it. Just to hold him, as small and fragile as he seemed, made every difficulty worthwhile. I desperately wish I could keep him... 

"I hope your new family knows about all the trouble you cause, Kris. From your intense fear of loneliness to your passion for long brown hair." He particularly loved Frisk. When she would hold him, he'd immediately bury himself in her hair, grabbing at it and not moving. She didn't mind, he couldn't really pull that hard. "We'll just have to write a book about you, huh? Like an instruction manual," I chuckle. 

He yawns, and eventually lets go of my ribs. Mmh. Finally. Maybe I can just... I stretch as I stand up slowly, looking down at him. This time, he doesn't cry, he just watches me. "Complicated little guy," I whisper, slowly creeping into the kitchen. As long as he can see me, he doesn't cry, he just watches. I exhale in relief. 

In a few moments, I have his bottle made, and I pour a cup of coffee for myself. Coffee... it was the only way I was managing at this point. I settle down next to him again, scooping him up. "Ah, here we go," I breathe, helping to hold the bottle for him. He eats hungrily, eyes closing in pleasure. I wish that I enjoyed food that much. 

I let my mind drift while he eats, and watch the flames flick in the fireplace across the room. It would be time to replace the wood soon, but... no one was here to watch Kris while I did yardwork. 

Creativity seems to be the only way for me to get anything done today. 

While Kris continues to nearly inhale the contents of his bottle, I go to the closet and pull out one of the newer large scarves that Frisk had bought for me. Large and warm, it just might do the trick. 

"Not too bad," I breathe, standing in the mirror after a few minutes of adjusting. Between getting suited for the weather and cinching Kris to my chest underneath a bulky coat, getting a little too warm indoors was the best I could have possibly managed. Here's to hoping. I glance down at him, curled against my sweater, and clothed in red, he gazes back up at me, watching me. 

"Hm. Guess this will be your first time in the snow, huh?" I say, petting his hair. He smiles back at me, and I try not to melt. He sure wasn't going to make it easy to give him up. 

Its simple. I love him. I love him with all that I am, and I won't give him up without a fight. His place is right here, nestled between my heart and my arms, where I could care for him always. This is my child.

Heading back down the stairs, I zip the coat and step into the nothingness that was the snowfall outside. One hand on the doorknob, and the other over the most important part of my life, I shiver with the thought of every moment we had together possibly being the last.


	8. Chapter 8

Settling into the couch with Kris, I give a huff. I felt so... exhausted. Kris had been awake more often at night, and keeping him happy took most of my energy. I rub my eyes as he takes his bottle, trying to force myself awake. The clock on the wall read 9 am. We'd already been up since five. My head began to pound, but I shove it away. As soon as Kris fell back asleep, I could take something for this damned headache. My whole body aches, but I'm sure it's from being up and down all night... I shiver. 

Usually he slept so well... why did things change? Could he sense my uneasiness over Frisk? Surely my anxieties didn't affect him. Sure, empathy existed, but not on that degree. Though, I wouldn't be too surprised. "Hmmh," I groan, leaning my head into the couch as he ate. I close my eyes a moment, listening to him breathe, trying to force away the throbbing against my temples.

Suddenly, the front door opens with a thud, startling Kris and I both. "Mhh!" I instinctively clutch Kris to me, rubbing my eyes again. "What the..!" I exclaim as Kris lets out a wail. 

Definitely not helping.

Frisk slumps into the chair looking defeated. Her eyes are downcast, and she doesn't dare meet mine as I sat there looking wide-eyed after her.

Was everything okay? Did her and Toriel have a falling out? But over what? 

Kris takes his bottle again quietly in my arms, and I don't dare take my gaze from him. The heat from Frisk's glare was enough to singe my cheekbones from a distance. I don't think I've ever seen her this miffed. It was if she was daring me to look up, to show that I was startled by her. I was, but I wouldn't let her know it. 

"Uhm…?" I venture. It's tentative at best, but maybe it meant she'd open up if she knew I'd listen. Listen without judgment of how she entered the room, and sent the pain in my temples even higher.

"...don't," she mumbles, her dagger gaze settling on Kris. She softens a bit, "...ask. I just... you'll never guess what just happened." 

I could probably imagine. I keep the thought to myself.

"I talked to mom about... well. The thing that happened the other day...? and... she wasn't, erm..." she trails. It was obvious that she was thinking hard, beginning to pick at her fingers in her lap. I lift my gaze from Kris to her fingers, still not meeting her eyes. She notices, and looks away to the fireplace. "Sorry."

I ignore the unnecessary apology. She has to manage her emotions a little better than that... or at least when it hurt me to think at least. "I guess she probably didn't take it very well..." I huff. It wasn't a difficult inference to make. Everyone from the Underground knew how close Frisk and I had been. We did everything together--just a pair of goofballs running around getting into trouble. It had been that way for a while, things only changed when she went to college. Even then, it was still obvious to everyone but me--Frisk was not to end up with me. Frisk was supposed to be as normal as possible if she was going to be the ambassador for the Underground. She was supposed to be with another human. Make human friends, resume life as it was for her before she fell. 

That didn't stop me from wanting her. 

"You knew this was going to happen, Frisk," I breathe, still not looking at her. I told her to keep it on the down-low for a bit, but she couldn't contain herself. 

I felt the heat on my cheeks grow. "Toriel especially never wanted us together. She just wanted you to be nor-"

"Fuck normal, Papyrus!" Her voice breaks a little. And so does my heart. Her voice is so thin, so close to just falling apart, "Fuck all of this. Fuck going to university to get a degree in something I don't enjoy, fuck being the ambassador, fuck all of it!"

I can't help but stare at her, holding Kris closer. Her cheeks are flushed with anger, and she's standing now, fists clenched tightly at her sides. They shake with tension. 

I can't rip my eyes from her. 

This was it. This is what I fell in love with. Her passion, her sheer strength to will things where they needed to be. I shiver. 

"Frisk, I don't know what to say... I..." I glance at Kris. He'd almost finished his bottle. I really didn't. I couldn't change how things had happened, and I couldn't change how other people decided for her what she was supposed to do. I felt that love I have shifting to anxiety at her anger. 

Slowly, she looms over me, face near mine. I look away, feeling both nervous with her closeness, and frustrated with her taking advantage of it. Advantage of me. There was no reason for her to be acting like this! Sure, Toriel was hard pressed on some things, but really, it was none of her concern what Frisk did now that she was grown, but some how Frisk still believed she did. She was always telling Toriel things as if asking permission after she'd done them. The same thing happened with the kiss we had shared nearly a week and a half ago, now. It had happened, and the moment it did, she looked to Toriel for approval, when she knew she wasn't going to get it. 

Then it clicks. 

Maybe she was attempting self-suicide on our relationship. Maybe this winter stay was supposed to be when she cut off our relationship, however complicated it may now be, and she couldn't do it herself. She needed an excuse to abandon me, and Toriel was a perfect way to save her own face and place a little blame somewhere else. And maybe it was likewise for her and Toriel. Maybe I was her excuse to piss off Toriel. Maybe... 

"Why did you tell her?" I whisper, looking right at her, eyes narrowed. "Huh? You knew it wasn't going to go over well, but you did it anyways. Why, Frisk?" I search her eyes for some kind of answer, but all I get is shock.

So I guess I was right. 

"Papyrus... I didn't know what to do! She's my mom, and I had hoped she had some kind of help for what I should do! When I'm with you, I'm so happy, but the moment I leave, I... and after what happened I had so many questions and--"

"Stop." I grunt, almost nose to nose with her. She doesn't back down either. "Admit it." I'm the one beginning to seethe now, the hurt pushing away my headache that throbs numbly inside my skull. I stand up, Kris still in my arms, now looming over her. 

She scoffs. "Admit what? What has gotten into you, Pap--"

I couldn't stand to hear her say my name like that! "I said shut it!"

She recoils, mouth snapping shut, arms crossing against her chest. The tiniest bit of fear flicked over her gaze.

And for a moment, I almost relished it. To let her know how she was making me feel. 

"Admit that it's all an excuse. You didn't mean to kiss me, and you didn't mean for things to end up this way, you didn't mean for this and that and whatever else! I'm not an idiot, Frisk! If you wanted to get away from me, you could've just said so! You planned this from the moment you called me that night, didn't yo--!"

WHAP!

The sound seems to reverberate around the room, as I clutch my jaw, heat flooding to the contact area. Kris falls still, clutching me tightly. He doesn't even cry. I do, though. "What the he--!"

"I can't believe you!" She gasps, taking a step away. "Are you serious?! Oh my God..." she trails, as if only now realizing what she'd done.

I feel tears well, and I can't bring myself to turn back to her. The sting reminds me of how horrible my headache is. What have I done? Why was I so stupid?

"You had to be thinking about that a while..." she echoes.

A pause. 

"Russ, I... I... I'm not trying to mislead you... I... I really didn't know what I was supposed to do! These feelings I have... I've never had to go through this before, I... It's not like I could talk to anyone about it, no one would understand! I only told Toriel because I honestly thought her mind would've changed by now! Can't you see...?" Her voice is choppy, holding back sobs. "Don't tell me that you didn't feel what I felt... Papyrus, I saw it in your eyes! You can't look at me right here and tell me that you didn't feel something too..." 

I look at Kris, peeking up at me, and then back at Frisk. I blink, trying to force away the headache, and the uncertainty. "I can't tell you I didn't feel anything." 

She relaxes. "See? I--"

"I'm not done." 

"Oh."


End file.
